Fake
by TheWolfsRose
Summary: America has joined the Allies, but no one really cares or knows why. Then one night England finds out, and confronts America on that and his fake atitude...I suck at summarys...and spelling, if you do read please review!Rated T because I'm paraniod


**Disclaimer: I own nada, which includes not owning Hetalia. **

**Author's Note: I was having a bad day, and this formed in my mind, which is kind of weird seeing how I have been having writers block. So I wrote it down, and posted it. It might not be the best, and it probably is horribly written, but not the less I hope you enjoy! Please read and review, it is one of my first stories to post that is kind of…..not happy? (I don't know, I suck with human emotions, I see sad others see funny)**

**Basically this is about why America joined the Allies, and the theory that the frount he puts up in an act, and his old mentor has been seeing right through it.**

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England sighed, running his hand though his hair. _Another meeting done,_ He thought to himself. Since America had joined it always seemed like less was being accomplished in the meetings, and the country had only joined two days ago! He sighed and looked in on the now empty meeting room and noticed something was out of place.

_Typical, I go though the trouble of printing out notes and he leaves them here._ The country thought; as he reached down to pick them up. _What is this?_ He looked down at pages and saw elaborate notes penned out pointing to different sections. He leafed thought the pages, and as he reached the last, less filled pages, there were entire battle plans planned out. All of the plans, of course, featured America and his own troops, but they were brilliant none the less.

_Might as well return these too him, he is staying in the hotel I am at. _England sighed, as placed the papers in his own briefcase, and left the room. He made his way out of the building, and waved down a cab.

He told the driver the hotel and sat back looking out the window. _I wonder how long he has been thinking up these plans._ England sighed, _Knowing him he probably thought them up months ago. _The cab pulled to a stop, and England paid the driver and stepped out.

"Excuse me which room is Alfred F. Jones staying in?" He asked the lady at the front counter.

"Oh you must be the man he mentioned," The lady said with a smile, "Room 41, here is the key." She added. England looked at the lady oddly, but took the key.

_Let's see, 38, 39, 40, there 41,_ England said walking down the hallway, and not thinking twice about sticking the key in the lock and stepping inside.

"Hello?" England asked calling out.

"Sorry, I'll be there in a second," He heard America's voice call out from further back in the room. He herd padding of feet and then the young nations voice again. "So I think it got infected, but I did do everything you said." America's voice called out accompanied by the sound of things being moved around, and scissors being used.

_What got infected?_ England thought to himself, realizing that America might have been waiting for someone else. Just as he was going to call out, and tell America that he was sorry, and he entered without knocking, the barefooted, bare-chested nation entered the room, holding several long white pieces of gauze.

"Artie?" America asked looking surprised.

"Sorry, the lady at the desk just gave me the key, and I didn't think about it." England stammered quickly. "You forgot your notes at the meeting," He offered for a reason on why he was there. He quickly opened his briefcase and pulled out the notes. "Here, you shouldn't leave them lying around." He added, falling into his old habit of telling off the old nation.

Instead of the usual witty remark, the younger nation accepted the notes and placed them on the coffee table. England could tell that he was hiding something, and there was something off about the way he was moving.

"Is everything alright?" England asked before he could stop himself.

"Everything is fine," America said putting on his wide smile.

"No you're not," England said narrowing his eyes, recognizing the fake smile he saw on America's face too often. He stepped forward and America stepped back.

"Nope, completely fine," America said waving his hands, and then before he could stop himself, cringed. England's eyes narrowed even further.

"What are you hiding?" He asked stepping forward. America took another step back but found himself against the wall.

"I'm fine, you don't need to worry," America tried to reassure the older nation that there was nothing wrong. Another one of his smiles lit up his face, as he only moved one of his arms to try to shake of the nation.

England however, had different plans, he reach forward and grabbed the younger nations shoulder. He was shocked when the younger nation cried out in pain. England pulled back his hand and saw a familiar red sticky liquid. America had bent over and his hand gingerly clutching his shoulder.

England looked down and saw the large patch of America's skin that looked like it was burnt. It was starting to heal, but a lot of it still looked red and raw and in several places blood was starting to pool. England studied the younger nation.

"Why?" He crocked out, his eye threatening to water.

"Why what?" America asked straightening up.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"You didn't need to know," The younger nation replied. He cringed and moved away from the older country.

"Were supposed to be on the same side," England commented, thoughts whirling though his head, and many with emotions tied to them. America said nothing.

"I'll be fine, I have a doctor coming to look at it," He finally said.

"Stop it," England said, his thoughts falling into place, and his emotions coming though. America's face fell. "You keep pushing me away," He added his eyes rising to look the other country in the eyes. "First you leave me, and now you won't even tell me when you're hurt." He added. America looked at his old mentor finally seeing some of the older country's true feelings. "You run around with that huge fake smile. I see you standing there, and you're trying not to let it show, but you're still that young kid. You laugh and smile, thinking that if the other countries think you're happy, that you will be happy." England continued, looking at the young nation, his eyes finally tearing over. "And then I see it, in the moments you think you're alone, and you let your problems come and get you."

"Artie," America said, "I didn't kno-"

"Of course you didn't," England snapped "But I look at you and see that sadness, not the smile the others see. The other countries think you're a joke and that you shrug stuff off. They say things, and then I end up with the picture of what you will look like when you let it hit you hours later." He added. "Look at your notes, you have amazing and detailed ideas, but you don't tell them that you come up with them, you leave a note card in the bathroom or something else, and hope that someone else finds it, just to keep up that stupid appearance." England continued, he could feel the heavy tears slid down his face.

"Artie, I never meant to hurt you," America said standing up and stepping closer to the country.

"Well, it's too late for that," He replied. "Just, please stop pushing me away," England said looking up at the nation. "I know that the boy I used to look after is in there, you don't have to pretend to be someone you're not." England continued.

"That's just it," America said looking into the older nations eyes. "I don't know what else to do," He added with a sad smile. "I was so certain on what I wanted back then, I knew I wanted freedom, I wanted to be someone you would look to as an ally, instead of a place where you could send your criminals and where you could squeeze money out of people, because you wouldn't have to see them." America continued. "And then I got that freedom, I had been changed into a nation, and then saw you kneeling there, crying, and I lost it. I didn't know what I wanted anymore. I had done the one thing I feared, I hurt you when I was trying to help you. I wasn't sure on how to react. I finally got a view of the world, and it scared me to hell. I didn't know who to turn to, so I came up with the alternative. I figured if I smiled and shook everything off, people would like me and help me. Then the civil war broke out, and I didn't know what to do, I was tearing myself apart and no one was there to help me. So I came to the conclusion the only one I can truly trust it myself. So I kept the smiles and laughs that were becoming more and more fake each day, and tried not to get involved. I thought that if I stayed away, no one would find out that they were fake."

"Then why are you helping now?" England asked, "Why don't you stay at arm's length?" He asked.

"My people were attacked," He replied. "If I sit back and do nothing, not even my fake smiles will save me." He added. "So here I am," He said. "In an alliance that I want to be part of, but then at the same time afraid that one of you or even my own people will turn against me. Afraid to love people, because I'm too damn afraid of what will happen to myself if I do." He added. "All because I had the one thing I wanted, a person who loved me, and then I took the persons love and shoved it back at him, because I wanted more."

England looked at the younger nation. The man who was trying to save his own people, but afraid to do anything because he is afraid that it would hurt his people.

"I am one lousy hero, aren't I?" America asked the older nation, laughing a laugh that had no feeling. England looked at the nation.

"You are my hero," England commented. "Even though you are tearing yourself apart, you decided to save me," He added. "You're standing up for something, even if you don't know that you are." England lifted up his hand and touched the side of America's face.

"Someone else would have helped." America mumbled turning away.

"Who? France has fallen, he is clinging to the few soldiers who escaped at Dunkirk and Russia would make me become one with him. You are the only one who would come to my rescue that I would trust." England added with a smile. "America you are my hero." England added, reaching up and brushing his lips against the other nation's cheek.

America's eyes widened. He felt an old feeling that hadn't been stirred in years, the feeling of being needed. He felt the older nation's lips leave his cheek, and step back. The man he had broken away from all those years ago, standing there and saying that he needed him.

"Thank you," America whispered. England smiled and America remembered all of those years they had spent together, and then saw the future that they could also have.

"Now, let's have that cleaned and dressed," The older nation added, pulling the younger nation into the bedroom and rolling up his sleeves. He saw that America had already set out the supplies for cleaning it and dressing it, probably because he was going to do it after the doctor came.

He gently pulled out the wet cloth and gently began washing out the burn.

"Pearl Harbor," America said, his face halfway in the pillow he was holding.

"What?" England asked looking up from the wound, and to the nation's face.

"Pearl Harbor, you wanted to know what happened." He explained. England said nothing but smiled.

"There all finished," England said as he looked down at newly dressed wound. "Well I'll be going now," England added standing up and turning. He stopped when America's had reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Please don't go," America mumbled, his face turning a slight red. England looked down at him and smiled.

"Alright then," He replied softly, "However I have nothing to sleep in," He added. He watched as America sat up and padded over to a battered suitcase, he came back and handed a pair of pajama bottoms to the older nation. "Alright then, I'll stay," He said, knowing that America was probably having nightmares of what had happened.

_He scares easily, so I can imagine what the memory of Pearl Harbor is doing to him. After all it only happened a few days ago, _England thought to himself as he peered out the crack in the door at the younger nation. America looked lost, and was probably thinking that the older nation was going to slip out as soon as he was asleep. England stepped out of the bathroom in the pajama pants that were too long for him _He really has grown though. _He thought to himself as he looked at the extra inches of cloths that dragged on the floor.

"Well scoot over," England commented to America who was taking up most of the bed. The younger nation adjusted his position so the England could slide in. England carefully sat down, making sure not to jostle America and his wound.

"You'll be won't be comfy if you leave that on," America commented. England looked down at his freshly pressed shirt, and sighed, the younger nation was true. England's eyes slid over and looked at America's torso that seemed to be made up of all muscle. Before he could say anything, America had leaned over and began unbuttoning England's shirt.

England sighed, and shrugged it off when America was finished. He felt extremely self conscious when the younger nation's eyes looked over the fading scar that had been caused by his own great fire. He watched as America's fingers slowly traced over the scar.

"It's faded," He commented. England looked down at America in shock.

"You remember?" He asked. The younger nation nodded.

"It matches this one," He commented, and then pointed to his side. America picked up England's hand and placed it on the scar that was fading in a similar fashion.

"How did you get that one?" England asked, knowing that it wasn't there when he was a colony.

"There were two fires, The Chicago and Peshtigo fire, they happened on the same night." He replied. "Both of them were really bad, but the worst damage was in Peshtigo." He added. "I still get nightmares from both of them though." He added softly.

England smiled at the younger nation. "Well then, I'll just have to protect you from the bad dreams tonight." He added reaching over and turning off the light. He felt America's arms surround him, and his face press into his chest. England smiled, and the two countries fell as sleep. Rain began to fall outside, but neither country stirred, nor did either of the two have nightmares.

The next morning started out with England declaring that Japan was going down, and America was going to do it. America the proceeded to explain a plan that everyone, shockingly, agreed to. The war ended, and peace eventually returned for a time. A pact was made between the two countries, and Every December 7th the two countries get together and compare scars.

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**Author's Note (take two): Okay for all of you people who read my other stories (I'm guessing there are about two of you) I am hoping to update my other story soon. I've had a small spree of writers block, and then being unable to write on my computer. But I am hoping that within the week a new chapter will be posted**.


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